


Trinkets

by canidswain



Category: The Lighthouse (2019)
Genre: (cause the mermaid is trans), Fluff, Forehead Touching, M/M, Mermaids, No Angst, Sign Language, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:21:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23162410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canidswain/pseuds/canidswain
Summary: Howard allowed his fingers to ghost at first along its cheek, pressing softly at its cushioned jawbone. Watching carefully as its eyelids twitched. It did not deserve to die, he decided. The knowledge of its death among Wake's would plague him even after he finally saw the rapture of the lantern.
Relationships: Ephraim Winslow/Original Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	Trinkets

**Author's Note:**

> this is so self indulgent but im going wild over the lighthouse and i NEED to kiss tommy howard

It was with blood on his hands that Thomas Howard felt feverishly over the mermaid's body.

Wake was gone, couldn't belittle anyone from beyond the grave, and his corpse still sat where Tommy had left him. Skull split open over the flooded floor of the ramshackle house. The mermaid still taunted him, however.

This was a different one. Not the perfect siren, lithe and seductive, that haunted his fantasies. She was gone, he destroyed the talisman that allowed her grasp on his mind. This was a different one.

It was far from the lean figure he had dreamed about, a heavy body resting on the rocks. Thick hair covered its chest, its arms, trailed thinner along every inch of its wet skin. It was flawed, as well - bruising softly in different places along its torso and bleeding out of gashes and scrapes. Despite this, it looked peaceful. Almost dead, if not for the way the gills along its neck fluttered weakly.

This thing had not hurt him. It was not the same as the one who Wake had cursed upon him. The cruel tide must have plucked it from the depths and thrust it at his feet. It would perish now the storm was gone, whether by his hand or not.

Howard allowed his fingers to ghost at first along its cheek, pressing softly at its cushioned jawbone. Watching carefully as its eyelids twitched. It did not deserve to die, he decided. The knowledge of its death among Wake's would plague him even after he finally saw the rapture of the lantern.

So he scooped it into his arms, straining under its weight for several moments, and began to wander down to the beach. The mermaid stirred, moaning, tailfin flapping lazily at his side. Yellow eyes fixed on Tommy's face and he heard confusion and fright upon the creature's lips. It did not struggle - he was glad of that. He waded into the water, submerged up to his waist, and let the mermaid go.

For a moment, it floated in front of him. Disorientated and curious, it glanced about and crept close, matted hair trailing out behind it. Webbed hands raised to Howard's face, cupping his cheeks with much tenderness. He stood there dumbly, mouth dry despite the wetness over every inch of him. His eyes flitted over the mermaid's features.

A simple forehead nudge and it splashed away into the waves.

\---

Thomas was restless. He'd gazed upon the beauty of the lantern and felt its magic meet his blood for mere moments. He was satisfied in that respect, but still he longed for something.

Thinking perhaps it was simply the dull sense of life without the lamp's salvation, he spent hours captivated by it. He would go almost blind with bright lust for the thing. But still he was restless.

Wickie life had resumed almost like clockwork after the storm. Tommy disposed of his predecessor, began the long repairs on their home, and tended to his muse. Without Wake breathing down his neck all hours, it was almost rewarding.

If not lonely.

Despite Wake being gone and the token being destroyed, Howard was having dreams again. Dreams of mermaids, soft and sweet and joyful. Not like his old fantasies.

These visions held that creature he saved weeks ago. It confused him - a monster so burly yet beautiful, physically womanly yet handsome. In his dreams it kissed sweetly at his neck, ran its coarse fingers through his hair, mewled softly into his ear. He would wake feeling flustered and yearnful, imagining the loving creature wrapped up in his arms.

The wickie had taken to strolling the beach after finishing his duties, eyes scanning absentmindedly over the seafoam. He'd smoke a cigarette and watch the seagulls in suspicion.

It was on one of these wanders that the creature returned.

Its head crested the saltwater as he passed by - Howard missed it at first. Careful eyes followed after him until he sat down and cracked open a bottle. It tugged itself up from the pull of the waves and crept hesitantly towards shore. Glancing up to meet it, the man gaped for a moment.

It stayed a few feet into the water, watching him with its head tilted slightly. Knowing it wouldn't purposefully beach itself, Thomas slowly made his way down the beach until it sat just a few feet away. He allowed himself to survey it again - soft belly, pointed teeth, knotted hair converging down into unkempt sideburns. Youthful, but then again that was the charm of a mermaid.

Caught up so in the strange and unnatural beauty it presented, it took a moment to realise the creature was offering him something. Howard looked down to its clawed hand, and allowed it to place in his palm a trinket. A shell - pinks and beiges marbling on its surface. A chip in its edge.

"For me?" His words seemed to startle it, its tail beating against the water, but after a moment it cocked its head again.

Of course it didn't speak English. It was a glorified fish. With a small sigh, he pointed to the shell and then to his own chest. That seemed to get through to it, from the way it clapped its hands and flapped them about eagerly. Tommy shielded himself from the droplets flying off its fingers.

A smile quirked his lips. A peculiar, sweet creature. It grinned its fangs at him, and made quick movements with its fingers. Curious, he pursed his lips and hesitantly leant forward.

He bumped his forehead to its own, and when he pulled away it was blinking at him, cheeks flushed red.

"Thank you." Howard told it, and though it didn't understand, it smiled and swam away.

\---

These visits became regular. Every few days the mermaid would return to shore with shiny objects and treasures. And every time, Tommy would accept them with a forehead nudge and a smile.

It was after the fourth visit that the wickie realised that the peculiar way the creature used its fingers wasn't just excitement - it was sign. Human sign, he guessed, unless merpeople had their own version as well. After that he spent hours digging through every shelf, nook and cranny of Wake's home for anything that would help.

Eventually he found a book on sailing signals, and inside a detailed couple of chapters on signing - for when high winds stole the voice away. Howard began learning, as best he could, and by the time the mermaid had returned again he'd learnt a fair sample.

This time it proudly presented him with a necklace, the chain eaten at by rust. It was cheap, he could tell, but the look of hope on his companion's face was worth thousands more than the scrappy bit of metal and gemstone. He took it gratefully, and sloppily signed out what he hoped he was remembering right that "thank you" was.

For a moment, Thomas thought he'd made a fool of himself, until he spied the look of uncontrollable mirth breaking out on the creature's face. Its fingers moved too fast for him to keep up, but he caught a couple of words like "happy" and "friend".

"I," he drawled, pointing to his chest, "not good." He made a sort of negative, crossing gesture, and the mermaid seemed to get it well enough. It ceased its rapid signing and simply smiled at him. After a second of comfortable silence, it glanced about hesitantly and pulled itself closer. It gazed up at his quizzical expression, then leant against him and buried its face in his neck.

Immediately his face lit up like a flare. The beast was wet, and the salt made his skin itch, but Thomas found himself not minding as it breathed gently against him.

He'd show it that book soon. Just not quite yet. Not while it was still sighing softly like this.


End file.
